Five Times Ahiru and Fakir Held Hands
by Silverhare
Summary: Five vignettes about hand-holding in various contexts.


Once she'd put her clothes back on and they could look each other in the eye again Ahiru waded into the water and held her hand out to him; Fakir hesitated for only a fraction of a second before taking it. Taking deep breaths, they dropped themselves beneath the surface and began to swim, their linked hands acting as a guide for him in the dimly lit passageway.

It wasn't all that long a journey, though it was long enough to have caused him worry a little while ago when she hadn't returned when he'd thought she should've. He could see now why her investigation had taken the time it had. More than that, though, he could see how wrong he'd been about her, how he'd misjudged her… and how fundamentally dishonest he'd been even with himself.

She put him to shame. There was no denying it. He thought back to what Charon had said to him only a couple nights ago - he'd been more right than he knew. All these years, every awful thing he'd ever done to Mytho had been motivated not by concern for Mytho's safety, but fear for his own. Not that he didn't care about Mytho, he did… but it was obvious now that he had always cared more about his own life, about his own desire not to die. Ahiru had said she didn't think he was no good as a knight, but she was wrong, he'd been a _terrible_ knight. His desire had always been to live up to the example that Mytho had set in the book, of someone brave enough to protect others without concern for their own safety, to be the equally brave knight who stood at his side.

But then reality intruded, and he saw the hazards that it brought to Mytho in his heartless state, and even more importantly to him, he learned what it had cost the knight in the story: his life. He was torn in two by the raven's claws, and his death was marked on Fakir's body, with the birthmark that cut across his chest and back. He'd taken it as a sign that he was destined to meet the same end, and decided that Mytho must never regain his heart, that the story must never move again, because to let that happen would be sealing his own fate. So he'd taken increasingly horrible actions, and convinced himself it was all for Mytho's own good, that he actually was doing his duty as a knight to protect the prince.

What a lie. What a blatant, shameful lie. And that he hadn't seen the truth till now made him all the worse.

Ahiru, though… she had refused to accept what he was doing, had tried again and again to stop him. Not once had she ever accepted that it was to Mytho's benefit to keep his heart from him. He'd treated her with scorn and even violence, spoken cruel words to her, but she'd never let that discourage her, she'd never let herself be intimidated enough to stop what she was doing. At one time that had been infuriating and frustrating; now he saw it for how admirable and inspiring it really was, and felt ashamed of himself for what he'd done to both of them. Neither of them had deserved any of it.

Did Ahiru ever get scared for her own safety? He didn't know. He didn't know her well enough, at least not as well as he now would like, to determine that. If she did, she did a remarkable job of hiding it, or at least of setting it aside so that she could throw herself wholeheartedly into fighting for others. And what was really remarkable was that she didn't actually fight at all, she used words and never struck anyone with a weapon. She wasn't experienced with using a sword like he was. Yet she never let that prevent her from hurling herself into danger for someone else's benefit. She was so much braver than he was, truly selfless in the way he'd wanted to be but never managed. She was so much _better_.

To top it off, she was a duck. A tiny little duckling who depended on a magical pendant to transform her into a human girl, and into Princess Tutu. She was, physically, so much weaker than he was, but she had more courage and selflessness than he'd ever possessed, and it revealed him as the selfish, cowardly wretch he was beginning to see he'd been for some time now. Maybe always. That he'd treated her with so much disdain made his insides squirm with shame and loathing. She deserved nothing but respect and admiration, and instead he'd given her hatred and cruelty. She was so much better than he was that it seemed unfair to even compare them.

And yet… as terrible and shameful as he was, she'd nevertheless seen something in him that had made her reach out her hand, both metaphorically and literally, and extend him her trust, to choose to work with him. She'd trusted him with her life and her secret, putting both in his hands. He didn't know what had driven her to those decisions, and he supposed that in the end it didn't really matter. Because it gave him hope, hope that maybe he could be salvaged, that he could still be the brave knight he'd tried and failed to be. _She_ gave him hope. If he lived by her example, then maybe all wasn't lost for him and he could finally do something of worth for her and Mytho.

Neither one of them realized it, but he squeezed her hand, just a little, before they reached the surface and let go of each other.

"Quack?"

Fakir looked down to see that Ahiru had joined him on the bed. "Hey." He started to smile at her, but the look on her face gave him pause. "Ahiru? Is something wrong?"

"Quack! Quack quack quack!" Ahiru nuzzled his bandaged right hand with her head. "Quack?"

His brow knit in a confused frown. "My hand? It doesn't hurt right now, if that's what you're asking."

"QUACK!" She shook her head so rapidly that it almost made _him_ dizzy just watching her. "Quack… quack…" She touched the bandage with the tip of her wing, and then opened her wings outwards towards his hand. He recognized it as the ballet mime for "why?" and suddenly understood.

"Oh… you want to know why it's bandaged up in the first place?" Ahiru nodded. "All right… well…" He lifted his other hand and stroked the top of her small head as the memories rushed back to him. He took a deep breath and tried to find the words to tell the tale. "You remember… I… I found you in the lake, and we… and… anyway, you didn't… didn't you wonder how I knew you were there?"

"Quack." Ahiru shook her head again. "Quack?" She gave him a questioning look.

"It's because… well… I'm the one who wrote the words that put you down there." His voice shook slightly, and he watched her eyes widen with disbelief. "Drosselmeyer, he… he showed up at the house and… took control of me. I was forced to write the story that sent you down there while he talked to you." And oh how he hated the things he'd heard him say to her; he pushed the memory away, lest he become overwhelmed by anger again at the cruelty of it all. "I tried to stop myself… but I couldn't control my hand, and… and you…" His voice shook again. "I'm sorry."

"Quaaaaaack! Quack, quack, quack!" Ahiru shook her head frantically, with a look in her eyes that plainly said _It's not your fault, please don't blame yourself!_ "Quack!"

"Thank you, but…" Fakir sighed again and continued to stroke her head. "If I'd been stronger, if my power hadn't been so weak, he might not have been able to do that to you through me. As it is… it's a very lucky thing there was a letter opener on that desk."

"… quaaaaaack?" Her eyes widened with a look of dawning horror.

"Mmmm. Yeah." Fakir nodded. "It was… the only thing I could do. The only thing I could use to try and stop him. So I… and once I did, time unfroze and Drosselmeyer vanished, and I could move again. You were already in the lake, but I didn't have to finish writing and make you…" He stopped.

"Quaaaaaack!" Ahiru feebly flapped her bandaged wings at him, her eyes full of distress. "Quack quack! Quaaaaaaaaaack! Quack!"

"Idiot. It's fine." He ruffled the feathers on her head and tried to smile. "It did what it was supposed to do, didn't it? You're alive and everyone else is all right too. And so am I," he added, cutting her off just as she opened her beak to quack indignantly at him. "Don't be ridiculous and go worrying about me. It's healing as it should and isn't that painful anymore."

"Qua… quack…" Ahiru's little shoulders slumped, and tears filled her eyes as she gazed up at him. That he had done that to himself for her, risked permanent damage just to save her life… she knew it had probably been for the best in the end, considering how the final confrontation with the Raven had shook out, but still…

Fakir shifted. "Hey… I told you… I'm fine… don't cry, idiot." There was no sting in the name, there hadn't been in a while, and it was further defanged by the fact that he reached out and gently wiped some of the tears off her face. "We're both okay, so don't worry about it. And there's no need to feel guilty, so don't do that either."

"Quack…"

He expected to have to argue it with her a bit more before she settled down. But she didn't push it, and instead did something wholly unexpected: she gently nudged his injured hand up off the bed with her head, and then placed her wings on either side of it. It only took Fakir a split second to realize what she was doing.

Ahiru was holding his hand as best she could in the form she was in.

A lump rose in his throat. "… Thank you." He stroked her head again, and for a good long while they just sat like that without speaking.

There were no words that needed to be said, after all.

"Fakir?" Ahiru knocked on the door. "Can - can I come in?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

She opened the door to find him sitting at his desk; it looked like he'd just finished his homework. Their eyes met, and she blushed and smiled. "H-hi. Um. I mean, um - a-are you finished with that?" She gestured to the papers on his desk.

"Yeah." He smiled softly at her and stood up. "Dinner's ready, then?"

"Y-yeah, I guess, I mean… he hasn't said anything but I can smell it so it's probably done or it will be soon, but… but that's not why I'm in here, I wanted to… I wanted to see you, and…" Ahiru trailed off as she hurried forward and threw her arms around Fakir, pressing her face into his chest. He put his arms around her and she felt him lean his head against hers; she sighed happily and closed her eyes. He didn't say anything to her, but he didn't need to. The magical, wonderful words he'd said to her for the first time earlier that day hung in the air around them, emanated with a strong warmth from his body as he held her.

_I love you._

They stood there in silence like that for a few minutes, and then Ahiru pulled back just a little, just enough to see his face. He smiled at her, and she at him, and they both blushed as she leaned up on her toes and he bent down to meet her. This kiss went more smoothly than the first one earlier: there was only a slight bump of noses before Ahiru tilted her head the right way and their lips met. They both trembled a little, and by the time they finally broke for air each was equally breathless and happy.

As it turned out, they had enough time to share a few more tender kisses before Charon called up the stairs to them and announced that dinner was ready. Ahiru walked ahead of Fakir down the stairs, and was so bouncy and dreamy after kissing him that it was a miracle she didn't trip and fall or walk into any walls. Instead, it was Fakir who managed to collide with the door and bump into a couple corners on the way, his uncharacteristic clumsiness a product of the haze of joy hanging over him from kissing Ahiru.

He did somehow resume his normal, neutral expression just before Charon caught sight of him, though, much to his internal relief. Ahiru sat down in her usual chair and swung her legs under the table as she waited for the food to be set out. To her surprise, Fakir sat down in the chair next to her, rather than across from her as was his usual habit; she considered asking him why, but her question was quickly answered when he reached under the table and took her hand in his. She turned to look at him and saw that he was mostly facing the other way, and his hair hid some of his face besides, but she could nevertheless tell that he was blushing, because she could see that his ear was bright red.

Ahiru smiled and squeezed his hand under the table, and held it until it was time to eat.

Fakir was still reading something when she found him in the library, so Ahiru sat down in the chair next to him without a word. She fidgeted a little, and wondered when it was okay to say something and how long it would take him to notice she was there.

The answer to the latter question turned out to be "immediately", as he lifted his head and looked over at her. "Ahiru?" Fakir frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Wh-what? N-no, of course not." Ahiru shook her head. "Wh-why would you think s-something was wrong?"

"Because your face gives it away, idiot." He shut the book and looked expectantly at her. "You never could lie. Come on. What is it?"

"I -! W-well, it's, I mean, it's not like anything serious is really _wrong_, I just…" Ahiru twisted her hands in her skirt. "You were busy reading and I didn't want to bother you cause you're supposed to be quiet in the library and I'm always so loud so I was trying to be quiet cause I didn't want to annoy you or embarrass you, cause it must be embarrassing to always have me bursting in all loud and annoying so I was just gonna wait for you to notice I was here and not say anything cause I didn't know if it was okay to say anything but it's hard to do that and I… well, anyway, that's all." She hung her head. "Sorry, I was annoying anyway…"

Fakir's frown deepened. Something had obviously brought this on, and he had a good idea what. "Relax. It's fine. You don't need to worry about any of that." He stood up and began to gather his books. "Come on, let's go home."

Ahiru bit her lip. "O-okay…" She waited for him to put his books back in his bag, and then they headed out of the library together. As they walked through the door, Fakir reached over and took her hand. Ahiru's eyes widened and she glanced up at his face, but his expression revealed nothing. There was a slight tint of pink to his cheeks, but other than that she couldn't tell what he was thinking, so she didn't question it and didn't pull away.

They held hands all the way home, not letting go until they got to the front door. Fakir unlocked it, and walked in ahead of her. Neither one said a word until he was at the foot of the stairs. "Fakir?"

Fakir turned around. "Yeah?"

"Um… I was just, um, curious… how come…" She swallowed. "How come you… held my hand like that? I-in public, I mean? I - I don't mind, don't take it like that, I actually really liked it, but… but weren't you embarrassed to do that? I mean… everybody saw… I thought you…"

"… Look, I…" Fakir hesitated. "I just thought… well… after what happened yesterday, and… I could see it was still bothering you, I thought you might like… that it might make you feel better…"

"… Oh." Ahiru swallowed again. When she'd gone to meet Fakir in the library yesterday, she'd overheard him getting asked out, and the person had expressed disbelief that Fakir was with her, even calling her a noisy little pest and asking why he wasn't mortified to be seen with her. Fakir had gotten angry at them even before Ahiru had made her presence known, but the damage had been done regardless. She'd tried to hide it all the way home and pretend she was fine, but once she'd gotten to her room had broken down in tears, because it had been the final straw on an already bad day. Fakir had heard her, and come in and held her and comforted her, but a niggling thought still remained: _was_ he embarrassed to be seen with her? Wasn't it true that she was a loud, annoying pest? He'd reamed that person out behind their back for what they said, but the doubts had already sunk their claws into her. "Y-you didn't have to do that…"

"I know, but…" Fakir frowned. "Were you embarrassed by it?"

"N-no! Not at all!" Ahiru shook her head. "I - I like holding hands with you, it's really nice and it feels good and it's fun, I just… I was worried that maybe it'd be embarrassing for you… not just to hold hands but… but just to be seen with me." Her gaze dropped to the floor.

"Ahiru, I…" Fakir sighed, and her heart dropped, but then a cautious relief began to bring it back up as he continued. "Look, I… I know it's hard for me to be open in public. It's just the way I am. I'm sorry if that's brought you any pain, because it doesn't mean I'm embarrassed to be seen with you. I'm not."

"N-no, I understand… I don't really want to do anything like… like make out in public or anything either, I'm not into big displays any more than you are, so it's okay, I just…" She wiped at her eyes. "I thought about it and I came up with all these reasons why you must be so embarrassed to be seen with me, I really must be so annoying…"

"You idiot." Fakir sighed again, and Ahiru looked up just as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Whatever you told yourself about that is wrong. I've never once been embarrassed to be seen with you, and I never will be. Anyone who thinks I should be is wrong too." He stroked her hair. "Anyone who has any sense… would be proud to be seen with you. I've been an idiot too, but… I'm smart enough to realize that, at least."

Ahiru pulled back enough to see him, but her vision was blurred by happy tears; all the same, she could see that he was blushing furiously. She smiled at him through the tears, and then took his hand in hers.

Ahiru peeked around the corner. Fakir was waiting for her, as they'd agreed, but he wasn't looking in her direction. The nervous excitement he was feeling practically radiated off him, though, and she could see in his face that he was trying to be calm and failing. Her heart raced as she looked at him - he looked so handsome in his nice clothes, and it was hard to contain her own excitement. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then walked out to meet him. "F-Fakir…"

"Ahiru…" He meant to say something else, but words failed him as he saw her come towards him, beaming and beautiful in her wedding dress. He hadn't seen her in it till now, and he was floored. "You… you look…" His voice stopped working as he stared at her.

"Th-thank you," Ahiru said, blushing. He hadn't finished his sentence, but he didn't need to - she knew exactly what he wanted to say just from the look on his face. "I - I'm ready - are you?"

"Of course." He smiled at her, his eyes so full of love and joy that it took her breath away, and reached out his hand. She happily took it, holding her bouquet in her other hand, and they began their walk up the aisle together.

Their hands remained clasped as they said their vows to each other; they'd written them together, and had practiced over and over in preparation for this day. Fakir's voice was hoarse as he began his portion of them, and when he promised all over again to stay by her side forever she heard it shake, and saw that his eyes were wet with happy tears. Ahiru responded by squeezing his hand, and barely held in joyful tears of her own as she spoke her vows, making the same promise back to him in a trembling voice.

When at last they were pronounced husband and wife and Fakir was told to kiss the bride, he did so while still holding Ahiru's hand tightly in his.


End file.
